Long Subtitles Poems
Long Subtitles Poems. Below are the most popular long Subtitles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Subtitles poems by poem length and keyword.
A 3 Line Poem With Subtitles and An Explanation
Here is the subtitle part- “Love Hurts” (love it or leave it)
3 Line Poem
Love takes you higher than the sky to heaven
It drops you daintily onto a rainbow fun cloud
Slices you in two to die in the cesspool of truth
Explanation: The author is trying to tell you, the reader, (you know who you are), in oh so many words, that love has its good points and bad points. You know; ups and downs and stuff like that. He does not wish to delve too deeply into this matter because babies and children might be around and after all, it is simply and only a measly 3 line poem. He prays that you understand this fine point and that you are willing to use your own imaginations to draw your final conclusions on this controversial subject, which as always, is a wholesome, good old fashioned fun endeavor, good for the entire family and beyond. Also: This poem should not to be confused with a haiku, which has a 3 line structure and a 5-7-5 meter count or measure. Enjoy or destroy is our motto of the day.
a minute poem (variation)
Maverick's wheel:
If it's unfair, we must repair
because we care -
the rule of thumb.
for Len Zakim.
Maverick's zeal:
Engaging souls was Lenny's hope
of broadest scope.
He blazed new tracks
for Jews and blacks.
Maverick's feel:
Bridge builder - linking mind and heart
faith to impart.
End bigotry,
birth empathy.
Maverick's seal:
Named a Knight of St. Gregory
Diversity -
color of skin
finds worth within.
Maverick's deal:
The Jewish Defamation League
became intrigued
with freedom's plea
and harmony.
Maverick's steel:
Cancer worked to shatter his world.
Hope still unfurled -
Len instantly
sought therapy.
Nov. 21, 2010
Author's Notes: I tweaked the minute poem form by adding a
subtitle line atop each stanza. These subtitles all rhyme with
each other revealing characteristic fervor of this maverick.
This is a true-life celebration of love ballad. A chance meeting on a Greek island becomes a whirlwind romance. From Athens’ vibrant Monastiraki markets to a Taverna where you can experience the lively traditional, passionate Greek culture and music.
Join Demetri and his spirited Sismo Dance Company to the strains of his Bouzouki. This Original bilingual (English/Greek) musical experience blends the magic of love at first sight with traditional and Mediterranean flair, to moonlit beaches, it’s a tribute to all those who’ve ever fallen in love fast, felt deeply, and dared to dream.
(YouTube, Subtitles in multiple languages)
(Simply click the Gear icon, choose your preferred language under 'Subtitles/CC'. Then click on 'Auto Translate.')
Come Closer To Me - Love at First Sight
LYRICS
COME CLOSER TO ME
Trelos ya sena
COME CLOSER, LOVE YOU TRUE,
Ella Konda mou na sou po,
MAY I HUG YOU,
Na s’angalayaso an boro,
I DANCED WITH YOU LAST NIGHT,
Ma ze sou horepsa egthes,
FOR ME YOU SEEMED SO RIGHT,
Agapi mou apo pou erthes?
COME CLOSER FOR IT IS MY AIM,
Ella Konda, na sou po,
TO TELL MY SECRET, THIS NO GAME,
To mistiko mou ella tho,
TO STAY WITH ME I ASK,
Thellou na zesume mazi.
ENJOY OUR YOUTH AND IN IT BASK.
Me tin igia mas ke krasi
WE WILL LOVE, KISS AND SIP FROM WINE,
Sta hili sou ena fili, se agapo toso poli,
AND WHILST WE DINE,
Ke an to potiri me krasi
IF A GLASS MAY FALL, BREAK AND SPILL,
Poh tay gee thee,
LET IT BE ON ME, IF IT WILL.
Na eme ego, ke ohi esee.
TOLD YOU THE SECRET TO MY HEART,
Goritsi mou, kseris ese to mystiko,
YOU WERE MY LOVE FROM THE START,
Apti tin argee, esouna ese.
YOU KNOW I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU, SO
Yati horis esena then boro,
FOREVER YOU’RE MY GAL AND ME YOUR BEAU.
Eeme trelos ya sena mono esena agapo.
TOLD YOU THE SECRET TO MY HEART,
Goritsi mou, kseris ese to mystiko,
YOU WERE MY LOVE FROM THE START,
Apti tin argee, esouna ese.
YOU KNOW I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU, SO
Yati horis esena then boro,
FOREVER YOU’RE MY GAL AND ME YOUR BEAU.
Eeme trelos ya sena mono esena agapo.
TO STAY WITH ME I ASK,
Me tin igia mas ke krasi
A cell phone tower buzzing
Like insects trapped in glass
A weight slowly crushing
My existence feels like a mass
I lift up my hands
They move half a second too late
Heavy, attached with rubber bands
It's pulling too much weight
My mirror shows a stranger
Wearing my face with a borrowed coat
A layered voice whispering "change her"
A voice is stuck in my throat
The voices playing through a wall
A wall filled with water
Now the figure in the mirror isn't me at all
I know who I am and it's not her
The bed I've layed in a thousand times
Suddenly staged like a movie set
A book perfectly placed to cover up crimes
When did my own mind become a threat
The colors are screaming one second
Then missing the next
Don't believe this is what I reckoned
My world is too complex
Memories flying past like subtitles
In a language I forgot how to read
I go to check my vitals
I can't feel myself bleed
Time's moving thick
Like honey poured too slowly
Thoughts make me sick
Death suddenly sounds so holy
This consistent hum that forgot to turn itself off
Drilling holes through my head
Following me everywhere like a smoker's cough
Are you sure I'm not already dead
I look at people around me
Part of my knows they are real
The glass is surrounding
I'm behind the glass of an aquarium where everything's tinted teal
The bus is half-full, empty seats are occupied
by the soon to be born, the soon to be dead,
those in transition.
The medium knows he is a guest in a stranger’s dream.
When he thinks about this, he shivers and turns
to the window, lets himself be distracted
by the dusty fields, the wind cranking farms.
A bespectacled matron moans
as the knit of her life slowly unravels.
Eighty years dead; white mice
have been born and have passed away in her head.
A travelling salesman yet to be conceived
stares about him, thinking he is in a movie.
People speak a language he does not understand -
there are no subtitles for his state of mind
however, his future occupation has already been seeded
within the mixology of an ancient starlight.
The medium wishes he were more accustomed
to the slow process of astral dissolution
and regeneration.
Passengers cling to the long straps of their minds
as the Greyhound sways.
Some occupants dream
that they have a real ticket for this life,
others may have purchased a ticket,
but not a destination;
they fidget in their seats,
and wonder why the trip is taking so long.
Twas the night before Christmas and on my TV
Netflix was trying to entertain me
I’d paid my subscription but what did I see
Movies I watched in Nineteen Eighty Three
*
There’s some that are newer but what would you think
The lips of the actors aren’t even in synch
And so when the actors get all touchy feely
The dialogue sounds like it might be Swahili
It takes me a while but I soon understand
The movie was made in a far away land
So that explains why the star talks like John Wayne
But looks like he hails from the Southwest of Spain
I try to recall how the subtitles work
I’m bashing the buttons like some kind of jerk
When I get it right the subtitles kick in
But then the screen fades out to leave the word…… ‘Fin’
My wife went to bed in a huff and I said
These foreign movies all mess with my head
Then Netflix suggestions include ‘East of Eden’
But I’m seeking films (with subtitles) from Sweden
Of course I just said that to shock you awake
Who looks at the subtitles for goodness sake
But this night before Christmas, I had no idea
What I found was no movie… just an ad for IKEA
You’ll know when it’s time to go home or to stay,
When flight seems much better than standing to fight,
When the hair in your beard is starting to gray,
When oncoming headlights are glaringly bright,
When it’s no longer safe to be driving at night,
When early departures don’t feel like a crime,
When parallel parking just seems a bit tight,
You’ll know when it’s time.
When the old blue jeans are starting to fray,
When naught in your closet is fitting just right,
When that scale reading starts to heavily weigh,
When you’re squinting more and you’re losing your sight,
When subtitles are your way out of your plight,
When that box weighs too much and you’re not in your prime,
When your belt needs loosening, pants are too tight,
You’ll know when it’s time.
When it’s hard to convince and harder to sway,
When will’s given way to maybe or might,
When nothing, it seems, is going your way,
When your armor has dulled, and you’re more knave than knight,
When your shoulders are slumping, you’ve lost some in height.
When your parking’s expired and you don’t have a dime,
When some of life’s joys have lost their delight,
You’ll know when it’s time.
When the sublime submerges and everything’s trite,
When the meter’s all shot and nothing will rhyme,
When your mind draws a blank and has nothing to write,
You’ll know when it’s time.
----------
first ballade attempt... lol, this sounds pretty depressing!
idea was this: we have to make changes as we get older,
but "we'll know when it's time"... I need some new writing material...
On a remote Mediterranean village
there along the lovely Italian coast
was a simple young postman
looking for love for in to boast
Mario was his name, got a new job
delivers the mail up so very high
Pablo Neruda, a well known poet
who lived where Mario climbed to the sky
An attractive girl called Beatrice
worked in the cafe right way downtown
as soon they met love was in the air
but Mario so shy, causes such a frown
Pablo helped his young post-friend
to write a lover's poem for his love
so this Mario gave to lovely Beatrice
this so encaptured her like a glove
This young couple then got married
but Pablo then moved to Chile, his home
never forgetting his friendship with Mario
who was to know tragedy due to a poem
Beatrice became pregnant and had a boy
but before having him tragedy struck
Mario took a poem to read in Naples
at a political rally in which police broke up
Pablo on holiday came back to the village
but found no Mario, just Beatrice, and her son
Mario had sadly died at the Naples rally
so sad when heard what the police had done
This is such a lovely movie
so romantic and filled with prose
sadness enters to make it bitter
but reminds you of a romance-filled rose
(This is about a lovely romantic sad poetic Italian movie set in Italy made in 1994, it's has English subtitles and is available on YouTube, it's highly recommended.)
When I was young, sometimes I’d get to go
to our town’s theater, where I would see
a curtain open up, then a long show
much better than the ones on my tv!
The seats inside this place were plush and red,
and there were lots of them row after row!
Small stars were on the ceiling overhead.
I felt enchanted by their magic glow.
With tales like “Sparticus,” so mesmerized
I’d sit and savor every movie plot.
Were movies a religion, I’d get baptized.
I love all types and I love them a lot!
I left for college. Foreign films I saw
with subtitles, and those I saw for free.
The themes were deep and filled my soul with awe.
The greatest film buff I had come to be.
Some forty years ago, I started to
see at least one movie every week
at a theater when they’re brand new.
And dramas most unusual I seek.
TGIF was on my license plate -
“Thank God It’s Friday” because I live for
my Friday matinees, and I can’t wait
to write reviews of movies I adore.
For years I have reviewed the films I’ve seen
on Facebook and at one time with my own
column in a poetry magazine!
And by the way, most shows I see alone.
My spouse hates going out and is not free
to go with me when I have days off, so
I’ll ask a movie buddy. Usually
she’s busy, but I’m fine just going solo!
I have other passions such as poetry,
e-mailing friends and striving for good health.
But once a week the “big screen” I must see.
Of movie plots, my brain contains a wealth!
Dec. 19, 2017 for the Meraki Contest of Silent One
His Ship Was Wronged
We were on a ship in life, then one night we crashed.
My heart sank. It was a bitter ending. To see her in the
arms of a married man, leaving me demoralized. For I
thought I had niche with her. A place in her heart. Some
warmth for a future snowy day. I was wrong. I walked
away. It hurts thinking of the innuendos and subtitles of
love. More importantly it hurts to be fooled by her red
herrings and later by her veiled personas. And her. I set
sail. Like Columbus, I followed the stars, and new discoveries,
to a new world. On a sunny day I arrived on the banks of
poetic justice-or at least I thought at the time. I staked a
claim with Poetry Soup. Enter the consummate seal bobbing
a ball on his nose, free and happy. Along this journey here,
I carried a poem that I wrote. It was about her and her
aunt and the widening gap of differences. That was my first
submission. I made pleas. Shook the trees of faith. Cut onions.
From my heart I cried. It rained tears, the winds of mystery
and destiny sweeping me off my feet. I look. My eyes water,
over pool, I see her. She was on this site, too. Like storybook.
Like an angel that followed me. Like, really how can this be,
so surreal. In the throes of my mind, I right the ship and ending.
3/16/17-247